


One last thaw

by mtothedestiel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve, Steve Feels, cloning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clearing out a Hydra lab, Steve and Bucky find something unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, i'm excited to finally publish this fic. The idea wouldn't leave me alone, and here we are 8k later! Huge thanks to my beta Milo (im-the-punk-who). This fic is so much better for their advice!   
> Edit: Whoops I almost forgot the art :p It's at the end of chapter one for anybody who missed it.

“ _Cap.  Barnes.  Check in.”_

“We’re making progress.” Steve clocks a Hydra guard with his shield as he answers Natasha on his communicator. “We’ve had a batch of hostiles, but nowhere near as many as I expected.  Bucky?”

“I’m good,” Bucky calls from a few feet away, two handguns out and ready, “We’re definitely dealing with a skeleton crew.”

“ _Well Hydra_ has _downsized since you were last here,”_ Natasha notes dryly.  Bucky grins as he takes out the guards at the top of the next stairwell.  Steve sees the grimace there and keeps close to his partner as they descend to the next floor.

It has been two good years since Bucky broke through the worst of Hydra’s programming, but despite having enough of the big picture to handle the day-to-day, the details were still coming back to him one poisonous splinter at a time.  So when Bucky nudges Steve awake at three in the morning, pale and shaky with only one word on his lips (“ _Detroit”)_ , Steve puts a call in to Fury and gets the green light for an op.  It’s a trade-off that they use when it suits them.  Steve and Bucky get access to what remains of Fury’s connections and in exchange they grab whatever intelligence they can for the slowly rebuilding SHIELD.  It’s good for when they don’t feel like calling Stark and making a song and dance out of everything.

An hour after Steve makes the call Natasha lands the quinjet on their roof and by the time the sun rises in the mid-West Steve and Bucky are already underground with a body count in the low dozens. 

They’ve left Natasha a few floors above them to crack the data mainframe of this Hydra research facility masquerading as an abandoned factory.  They’re nearly through to the third underground level when she crackles in Steve’s ear again.

“ _You are probably not gonna like this.”_

Steve blocks a hail of gunfire, angling his shield to ricochet the bullets back to their senders.

“Care to elaborate?” he huffs, kicking a desk so it slams into a cluster of Hydra agents and sends them tumbling back down the stairwell they had just emerged from.

“ _I’m in their primary database,”_ Natasha continues, _“Looking at the detailed genetic profiles of two people._ Criminally _detailed.”_

 _“_ Whose DNA?” Steve asks, taking out a scientist trying to attack Bucky from behind.

“ _Two guesses.”_

“Mine,” Bucky assumes, using momentum from Steve’s hit to throw his attacker over his shoulder.  The man hits a filing cabinet and falls still.  “Who else would they- _shit._ ”

“ _Yes.  One file is yours, with records for genetic material taken from the Winter Soldier on three different occasions.  The other set of samples is from Steven Grant Rogers.”_

“What?” Steve exclaims.  Why would they-

“ _This entire facility was dedicated to replicating the original Erskine serum,”_ Natasha summarizes, “ _Hydra developed and applied a modified formula for James, but once you were back in the picture they must have started trying for the original again.”_

“But I was never with Hydra,” Steve objects, “How would they get my-“

“SHIELD _was Hydra,”_ Natasha reminds him, _“How many ‘tests’ did they take blood for when they defrosted you?”_

“They had me in the labs twice a week for the first month I was out,” Steve remembers, and blanches when he realizes the implications, “They even took bone marrow.  It hurt like hell.”

“Jesus,” Bucky swears over the comms, dispatching the last grunt with extra venom, “Two years and they’re still takin’ what ain’t fucking theirs.”

“You don’t think they’d-“

“ _What’s one way to replicate a super-soldier serum?”_ Natasha asks rhetorically.  They follow the fallen Hydra agents down the stairs, dispatching any still conscious.

 “ _Replicate the super-soldier.”_

The next door looms in front of them.  A graphic “4” is stenciled across his face.

“ _You’re approaching the lower-most level,”_ Nat warns them, “ _If there’s any actual attempts at duplicating either of you, it’ll be inside.”_

It’s locked, but that’s no barrier to Bucky’s arm or Steve’s shield.  Steve wedges his shield against the door handle while Bucky’ digs his fingers into the slim gap, ready to rip the door out of its frame when Steve breaks the lock.

“You ready?” Bucky asks.  His face is tight with anger, but his mouth betrays his apprehension.  Steve grips the back of Bucky’s neck with his free hand.

“Whatever’s in there,” Steve promises, “We deal with it together.  Alright?”

Bucky’s grin is small, but significant for him.  He presses a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“Deal,” he says, then his expression closes as Steve pops the lock and Bucky tears the door of its hinges.  Steve leads the way, shield first.

They step onto cement floors, and their eyes adjust to weak greenish light that they’ve learned is typical of the more underground Hydra facilities.  It’s chill and damp, and their footsteps echo in the deep space.  Steve peeks out from behind his shield, cautious after the welcome they received upstairs. 

The lab is empty.  A few metal office chairs spin idly in front of a long bank of computers, recently vacated as Hydra personnel tried to escape upstairs only to be met by Steve and Bucky.  The space itself seems hastily constructed but well used.  There are stacks of papers littering the tops of computers and machines; coffee cups are left on various surfaces, some still steaming. 

“See any familiar faces?” Steve asks as Bucky checks the corners, guns raised.  He’s looking for any hidden adversaries, or any successful clones.  Both appear to be absent.   

“No,” Bucky answers, lowering his weapon, “Doesn’t look like there’s anything in here big enough to store a clone.  Not a full size one, anyway.  Looks like we won’t be battling ourselves today.”

Steve feels some modicum of relief as they continue to examine the space, which is blessedly absent of any of the cryo chambers where Bucky remembers being stored when he wasn’t on missions. 

“I can’t say I’m disappointed,” Steve admits, and Bucky chuckles.  There’s a soft pneumatic hiss and they both jump, but it’s just the tech’s cooling system kicking in because of the open door.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Steve mutters.  Bucky nods, moving down the length of the room as Steve examines the computer bank.

It only takes clicking through a few files to confirm Natasha’s words.  Hydra had been trying to clone Steve ever since he had been found in the ice, using Bucky’s serum enhanced DNA as…filler?  Steve could see his and Bucky’s genes, and recorded attempts at combining the two.  So Hydra had made attempts, and failed.  Steve assumes Natasha already has a copy of all the data, so he keeps moving.

A break in the line of computers reveals a small open freezer, as though it was abandoned when someone was in the process of closing it.  Steve nudges the door open to reveal a case of sealed test tubes filled with blue liquid.  Each vial is carefully labeled.

_SGR-1.  Non-viable._

_SGR-9.  Non-viable._

_SGR-15.  Non-viable._

Trial and error, Steve realizes.  By the looks of it, mostly error.

“ _You guys need back up?”_

“I don’t think so,” Steve answers Natasha, examining the rows of cold cases, “To be honest, all I’m seeing is a bunch of test tubes. I guess they never-“

“Steve.”

Bucky’s posture is completely blank as Steve approaches cautiously.  Retreating into stoicism is Bucky’s defensive reaction to shock, so the lack of inflection in his voice sends a shiver of apprehension up Steve’s spine.

Bucky stands at the end of a long row of horizontal glass tanks that lie opposite the wall of computers.  Incubators, Steve realizes.  Like a twisted version of a hospital nursery.  He passes by a few unoccupied tanks with half torn off labels.

_SGR-19.  Non-viable._

_SGR-23.  Non-viable._

_SGR-24. ~~Viable~~_   _Non-viable._

Steve feels rage and fear curl behind his navel until he reaches his partner.  Not all of the tanks are empty. 

“Is that-“ Steve asks. 

“They did it,” Bucky breathes, “They actually did it.”

“This is,” Steve admits, “Not exactly what I was imagining.”

Hydra’s clone is an infant. 

It’s dressed in plain white cotton, in one of those little t-shirt onesies that Steve always sees babies on television in nowadays.  It’s probably the only thing that’s warm or soft about the incubator.  It looks like the infant is lying on some kind of rubber memory foam.  There’s a handful of electrodes taped to its arms and one at its temple, measuring heart rate and brain activity on monitors at the base of the glass container. 

The clone looks…healthy, despite its eerie, sterile surroundings.  It has the full face and chubby limbs of a baby maybe a few weeks old.  The child is starting to fuss, probably because of all the noise Steve and Bucky made on their way down here.  “ _Talk to me, boys.”_ Natasha’s voice breaks Bucky’s stupor.

“Floor secure,” he reports, “We’ve got one clone here, Nat.  Not a threat.  It’s…it’s just a baby.”

Bucky steps closer, staring, and Steve follows closely, reluctance weighing down his limbs. The clone looks through the transparent material at them, one hand flailing in their general direction.  This close Steve can see the inscription on a medical tag around her wrist.

  _SGR-26.  Viable.  Female._

“It’s a girl.” The thought filters down through the emotions clashing in Steve’s head.  For some reason that seems like the most unexpected part of this whole mess.  “Is it still a clone if it’s not an exact copy?”

Bucky’s not looking at the infant’s wrist.  He’s looking at her face, with her dark blue eyes and crown of wispy blonde hair. There’s something unreadable there.  He lifts a hand, his left one, and Steve has no idea what reaction to expect. 

“She looks like you.  Like you and me.”

Steve honest to God can’t see it.  He’s pretty sure the child in the incubator looks exactly like every other month-old baby in America, but Bucky sees it.  Bucky definitely sees it and there’s no mistaking his expression when it falls wide open.  Awe.

 “Wow.”

Bucky puts his left hand flat against the glass surface. 

Cue the alarm sirens.  Steve should be surprised but he’s already used up his shock quota for the day, thanks.  The noise makes Steve wince, so it’s little wonder when a high pitched wail starts up from the incubator as the clone/baby objects to the commotion.

 _“Cap.  Somebody just triggered a security protocol,”_ Natasha’s voice breaks in urgently over comms.   

“Yeah I think I know what did it,” Steve responds, staring down at the squalling infant. 

“What kind of protocol are we talkin’ here?” Bucky asks, “’Send in more guys for us to thrash’ kinda thing, or-“

 “ _More like a ‘leave nothing but rubble for the enemy to find’ thing,”_ Natasha responds, “ _Fury says drop everything and head for the surface.”_

“Yeah, tell him that’s a taller order than he thinks,” Bucky says and that’s the last thing Steve hears before a chain of explosions thunders overhead.  It’s coming from a few floors up, but it’s more than enough to set the floor rolling and send the banks of computers around them into a sparking electrical frenzy.

Ears ringing, Steve gets his feet back under him in time to see Bucky slinging off his Kevlar jacket and lifting the lid of the case.

“Buck-wait- we can’t-“

“You wanna leave her here?” Bucky shouts, “The building’s coming down!”

Steve shakes himself.

“No,” he shouts back, “ _God_ no-I’m sorry, I just-“

Another charge rocks the building and Steve blocks a section of falling debris with his shield, covering Bucky’s body with his own.  Bucky in turn shields the incubator, fishing the screaming infant out of the small tank.  He winces as he carefully peels the monitor wires off her skin before wrapping her snugly in his black coat.  Steve can hear his partner trying to soothe the child, but it’s pointless with the ceiling falling around their ears. 

“Go, _Go_ ,” Steve urges, and Bucky rushes past him towards the stairwell, clutching the baby to his chest.  Steve pauses only to grab a handful of the frozen test tubes he’d seen earlier, tucking them into his belt in the hopes they might provide something valuable for SHIELD to use.

* * *

 

They make it out with only a few scrapes, mostly because Bucky was too focused on protecting the baby to protect _himself_ from the exploding contents of the Hydra offices.  Natasha meets them at the foot of the plane.  She does a double take when she sees what Bucky is carrying, then pulls out a slim metal wand from her belt.  Bucky takes a step back and almost knocks Steve over, cradling the clone close to his heart. 

“It’s Stark tech,” Natasha promises, “Just a scanner James.  We can’t bring anyone onboard unless we know they aren’t tagged.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky breathes.  Steve remembers the fail safes that had been left in Bucky’s arm, designed to keep him Hydra’s property forever.  He knows Bucky remembers them too.  He’d almost died when they activated.

His own anxiety aside, it makes Steve a little sick to think anybody sticking a tracker, or worse, an explosive, onto a defenseless human being.  But this is Hydra, and he wouldn’t put anything past them.

Bucky holds the baby out in front of him while Natasha carefully runs the scanner over her.  The device gives off a red light, then green.

“She’s safe,” Natasha declares.

“Yes,” Bucky agrees, wrapping the infant more carefully in his jacket, “She is now.”  Nat looks at him for a long moment, then her eyes flick over to Steve before she nods and they board the jet as the factory collapses behind them. 

Natasha flies the plane while Steve calls Fury and places his stolen vials of DNA into an onboard freezer.  It is a brief, strange conversation on Steve’s end.  Once he sums up their findings to the best of his ability, he waits for Nick’s response. 

“Well, all things considered,” he concludes after a moment of silence, “This is not a worst case scenario.”

“I…guess you could put it that way,” Steve agrees.  Bucky emerges from the medical bay with the baby still in his arms.  He offers Steve a smile before plunking down in one of the passenger seats.  SGR-26 must have passed the Bucky Barnes test of health. 

“That’s my take for now,” Fury continues, “Hill and I will have a team waiting at your apartment to collect Romanov’s intel.  We’ll see you in a few hours.  Good luck with the kid.”

Steve winces as he hangs up the phone.  He can hear Bucky talking to the clone, his voice light and sing song.  Steve’s worried Bucky’s getting attached.  Scratch that.  He _knows_ Bucky is getting attached.  Steve doesn’t want to think what will happen if this goes south. 

 “We’re gonna rendezvous with Fury at our apartment,” Steve says, collapsing into the seat next to Bucky, “How is…uh-“ He gestures broadly at the baby.  Bucky’s got her resting against his knees, his jacket spread out beneath her like a blanket.  He’s holding his key ring with his left hand, shaking them every so often to produce a gentle tinkling sound.

“The pressure’s bad on her ears,” Bucky tells him, “I’m trying to keep her distracted.  You wanna hold her?”

“No!-I mean, I’m good,” Steve says quickly, “I’m not really good with babies.”

Steve would probably drop her.  Or she’d start crying.

Bucky doesn’t push, just shrugs and tickles the baby’s belly.  She laughs, and it’s the ghost of Bucky’s grin.  

“Look at that, Steve,” Bucky muses, eyes bright and mouth soft, “A little ‘a you, a little ‘a me, and there she is.  Doesn’t look like those bastards thought this one all the way through.”

Steve thinks he might be sick.  He wishes Natasha would hit some turbulence so he’d have an excuse for the nausea roiling in his gut.

He and Buck have been sharing a bedroom for far too long for Bucky not to notice Steve’s obvious discomfort.

“What?” he asks, smile fading, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’.”  Everything.  “Just, you aren’t acting like you, Buck.  I thought you were upset about this.  ‘Hydra takin’ what wasn’t theirs’ and all that.”

“I was upset about that.  I still _am_ ,” Bucky agrees, expression darkening, then smoothing out again, “But it’s not her fault.”

The infant kicks her bare feet against Bucky’s belly and gurgles.  Bucky’s smiling like a sunrise and Steve knows he’s falling fast. 

Steve doesn’t have good associations with Bucky and falling.

“I was ready for…monsters,” Bucky says, “Somethin’ evil, like what they did to me, or Natasha.” 

Bucky jingles his keys and the baby gurgles happily, reaching for Bucky’s metal fingers.

“This ain’t no monster.”

The baby looks up like she adores him already and Bucky is so _beautiful_ like this but Steve can’t-Steve _can’t-_

“She’s not ours, Buck.”

Bucky looks up sharply. 

“Then whose is she?”

“She’s-“

Bucky’s eyes narrow and the word “Hydra” dies on Steve’s tongue.  Bucky doesn’t need to hear the word to know what Steve’s thinking.

“If you actually believed that,” Bucky says, slow and even so as not to upset the infant in his lap, “You never woulda let me into your house.”

Shame warms Steve’s face.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “I didn’t mean it like that.  Just…be careful, Buck.”  _She might not be ours to keep_ hangs in the air between them.  Steve thinks of all the empty incubators buried under the rubble of the Hydra lab.  _Non-viable.  Non-viable. ~~Viable~~ Non-viable.  _ He thinks of his own early childhood, full of solemn faced doctors and sick beds.  There’s more danger here than just the threat of government meddling.

Bucky nods, brow still furrowed as the baby coos, demanding his attention.  He smiles again and leans down, pretending to nibble at the clone’s toes, which causes more squeals.

When he’s close enough to reach the child presses little fingers against Bucky’s face, startling when she feels his two day stubble.  Bucky laughs, before looking at Steve self-consciously and falling quiet again.

That makes Steve feel more guilty than anything else.  It’s a long time before the exhaustion of their mission finally outweighs the sound of happy baby babbling next to him and Steve falls into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 

Steve is nudged awake by a nervous Bucky a few hours later. 

“I’m up,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes, “Where are we?”

“We’re home,” Bucky says.  The baby is in his arms again, half asleep in the folds of Bucky’s coat. 

“Everything good?” Natasha asks when she emerges from the cockpit.  She’s got a flash drive in one hand and a Stark tablet in the other. 

“Sure,” Steve says at the same time Bucky mutters, “We’ll see.”

Natasha looks at them both.

“Okay,” she decides, “Let’s go.”

It’s a short walk downstairs to Steve and Bucky’s apartment.  The door is unlocked but Natasha already confirmed the rendezvous with Fury so they know it’s all clear.  Natasha leads the way inside and Steve follows.

A SHIELD agent Steve doesn’t know steps up when Bucky makes it through the door with the baby.

“Agent Barnes, we can take the clone,” she says crisply, offering an empty infant carrier with the SHIELD eagle printed on the cushioned seat.  Steve marvels sometimes at the equipment SHIELD manages to stick their logo on.  Bucky casts a skeptical glance at the car seat. 

“We’re fine, thanks,” he says, subtly angling SGR-26 away from the agent.

 The agent falters, clearly not expecting a refusal.  She opens her mouth, possibly to insist, but Steve waves her off with a shake of his head.  Luckily his orders still hold some weight and with a stiff smile the agent lets Bucky pass.  Steve follows, keeping a close eye on his partner as they enter their apartment.

Fury and Hill are waiting in Steve’s living room, where Natasha is already starting the debriefing.  She flips through a series of holographs on a Stark tablet.  Steve recognizes some of the graphics from the computers in the Hydra lab.  Fury acknowledges Steve with a nod.  The look he gives Bucky is a little strange in comparison, but then Steve supposes given Nick’s experiences with the Winter Soldier, Bucky’s paternal instincts might be a little unexpected.

It’s not a big team waiting for them.  Only two agents besides Hill and Fury but it makes Steve’s living room seem crowded.  Claustrophobic.  Bucky is clearly withdrawing, uncomfortable with the number of people in he and Steve’s private space.  He retreats to the linen closet, and Steve follows, leaving Natasha to continue the official report.

“You okay?” Steve asks, as Bucky balances the baby in one arm.  The other is fishing around the in the closet, knocking aside sheet sets until he finds a large, fluffy towel.

“Yeah, m’okay,” Bucky answers, “Just wanna get her outta my jacket.  Can’t be comfortable.”

“Good idea.”

Bucky strokes his thumb against the soft weave of the towel, breathing deep. 

“Can I have a minute?” he asks after a pause, offering Steve a lopsided grin, “It’s just…crowded.”

“Sure,” Steve agrees, “I’ll go clear off the coffee table so you can lay her out for a second.”

Bucky nods, tucking the baby’s face in close against his neck.  Steve can hear him whispering as he heads back to the living room:

“We found you.  Not them.  Don’t worry.”

Steve pushes down his anxiety and tidies up the living room, adding to Natasha’s report when she asks him to.  Honestly he wasn’t really prepared to have people in the apartment either, but it was a last minute mission and SHIELD still isn’t exactly overflowing with meeting places.  There’s not much to clear up from their low wooden coffee table, just some junk mail and dinner dishes they’d been too lazy to wash before bed last night.  Bucky reemerges after a minute or two, looking a little less stiff, and Steve helps him spread the towel out on the table.  The baby goes down next, watching them curiously while Bucky holds her steady in the soft material.  She’s too small to do too much wiggling, and soon Bucky’s got her cocooned in the bath towel.  The infant seems to calm down quickly once her limbs are tucked inside the soft material.

“Babies this small like to be wrapped up tight,” he informs Steve, voice low, “Feels safe.  I remember that.”

Having the baby secure seems to make _Bucky_ feel more secure, so Steve doesn’t stop him from swaddling the clone.  He wraps an arm around him as an added measure, kissing the back of Bucky’s neck as they listen to the agents on the other side of the couch. 

“…Steve secured a number of samples from the applications lab,” Natasha informs Fury, who looks to Steve curiously.

“Vials,” Steve volunteers, “It looked like maybe they were early attempts, never got past the cellular stage.”

“Where are those?” Fury asks.

“I left all the samples in the quinjet freezer,” Steve says, then remembers, the baby, “Um, besides this one.  SGR-26.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call her a ‘sample’,” Natasha corrects dryly, and Bucky hums his agreement.

“Isn’t she though?” Hill asks, “Whatever else Hydra was trying to accomplish, SGR-26 has the key to human cloning programmed into her DNA.”

“Is that technology we _want_ to understand?” Natasha asks, frowning. 

“If it means keeping it out of the wrong hands, I’d say yes,” Hill shoots back.   

Fury looks considering.  “We do have to decide what to do with the clone,” he says at last, “At least for now.”

“Steve?”  Bucky’s got the baby back in his arms, and Steve warned him not to get attached but he can tell they’re already past that.  Steve doesn’t really know what to say.  He knows it would make Bucky _so_ happy but that’s a _human being_ in his partner’s arms and can Steve handle that?  The other agents don’t give him any time to gather his thoughts.

“She obviously can’t stay here,” Hill says, and Bucky goes ramrod straight beside Steve.

“Now hang on-“ Steve interrupts, putting himself between Bucky and the rest of the group.

“Agent Barnes refused surrender the clone,” the female agent from before whispers to Fury, too loud in the tense room.  The other agent’s hand twitches, as if to reach for his gun and that’s the last straw.  Steve turns in time to see Bucky’s expression completely shut down.

The Winter Soldier stands, the baby still cradled against his chest.  His arms, metal and flesh, are gentle around the wrapped infant but his face has gone hard and his gaze has lost all the warmth that Steve has come to recognize in his partner.  When he speaks, Steve half expects it to be in Russian.

“You’re not taking her.” 

Everyone in the room takes a step back.

The infant whimpers and instantly Bucky is cooing to her, rocking her in his arms with a delicate smile.

“Shh, chickadee, it’s okay...”  With his lips pressed to the baby’s downy blonde hair he casts one more frigid look at the gathered agents before turning and exiting the living room.  The room is silent until Steve hears the soft but decisive click of their bedroom door locking and then all the air exits his lungs with a _whoosh_. 

Fury breaks the silence dryly.

“Well that didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“Sir,” Agent Hill speaks up, “SGR-26 is a highly sensitive asset.  We can’t just let Barnes-“

“If you’d like try and retrieve her, feel free,” Fury suggests, “It would take more than the agents we have here to subdue James Barnes after he’s secured his location.”  Steve finds it odd that Nick considers a locked bedroom door a secure location, but then again, this is Bucky.

“Surely Agent Romanov-” Hill begins, but Natasha immediately put her hands up, shaking her head.  No one seems surprised.  Hill doesn’t even try to ask Steve.  Probably for the best. 

“Captain Rogers?” Fury is addressing him.  “I think your input might be valuable here.”

Steve wets his lips, and tries to find his voice.  There is a baby in his apartment.  A baby that by all laws of genetics is at least half his.  Steve is not meant to have children.  This is a fact.  It is a cold fact that he has been trying to reconcile himself with since he was fifteen years old.

But the baby is important to Bucky. 

“We’re gonna need stuff,” is what he says, “Baby stuff.  Um…diapers.  Formula.   Blankets?  I guess?”  Dear god Steve is not cut out for this.

Nick looks at him for a second, before nodding to a nearby agent, who pulls out a tablet and starts making a list. 

“Here’s my deal,” Fury offers, “Keep SGR-26 here.  Don’t take her out of the apartment.  Don’t tell anyone she’s here.  We’ll leave you alone while we do our own analysis.  Between the data and the other samples we should be able to tell if there’s anything darker at play.” 

Agent Hill looks placated.  Steve’s not so sure. 

“And then what?” he asks. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”  Steve’s hackles rise and Nick rolls his eyes.

“Look Rogers, genetic experimenting aside,” he continues, “If all Barnes is holding in the next room over is a baby, then she’s all yours.  We’re not the Red Room.”

Steve catches Natasha’s eye and she nods.  She believes Fury, so Steve believes him too.  He’s not sure if it makes him feel better or worse.

“Fine,” Steve agrees.  Nick looks tired, but relieved.  Hill recognizes some unspoken signal and she exits along with the other agents.  In no time at all it’s only Steve, Natasha, and Fury left in Steve’s living room.  Nick sighs, looking hard at Steve.

“Take care of your partner,” he cautions before he follows his team out the door.  Steve knows he’s uneasy with the Soldier’s reappearance, even if it was for the right reasons.  Steve’s a little worried about that himself.  Natasha, as usual, knows what Steve is thinking.

“I’ll make sure you guys get your supplies,” Natasha promises, “You should go let him know you’re safe.”

“You knew this would happen,” Steve guesses.  Natasha shrugs, but a distant smile plays at her lips.

“Jakov was always good with children,” she says, “I knew it couldn’t have come from the Red Room.”

“You’re right,” Steve agrees, “That’s all Buck.  Ever since we were kids.  But Nat…”

“Hydra’s taken too much from him,” Natasha reminds Steve, “All of us, really, but him most of all.  Maybe it’s time James got something back.”

She gives him a kiss on the cheek and one final piece of advice before she follows the others out Steve’s front door.

“Don’t lock yourself out, Steve.”

Steve wishes he didn’t know what she was talking about.

* * *

 

“Are they gone?”

Bucky is seated on the floor, propped up against the empty space of wall next to the closet.  The baby is still curled in the crook of his right elbow, asleep as far as Steve can see.  Bucky’s left hand rests on top of a nondescript black duffle bag.  Bucky’s getaway bag.  He looks calm, but the presence of the duffle tells Steve how worried his partner was.   His old knife kit is inside, along with dry provisions and about fifty thousand dollars in cash.  The pack is less about actually running and more about Bucky knowing that he _could_ run if he needed to.  At least, Steve’s pretty sure.

“They’re gone.  Nat’s gonna be back later with supplies.”

Bucky exhales.  He gives the bag a shove back towards the closet and offers Steve an apologetic grimace.

“Can I join you?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” is Bucky’ murmured response.  Steve relaxes, and falls down next to his best friend on the floor of their bedroom.  As he hits the ground Steve can’t help but angle himself away from the bundle in Bucky’s arms.  Maybe he should wash his hands before he gets too close.  Whether he notices or not, Bucky rearranges himself until he’s pressed against Steve to his satisfaction.  Steve tries to focus on the comfort of his partner’s touch, and not the reality of the sleeping infant in Bucky’s lap.

 “Buck-“ Bucky looks up, and the flash of fear in his eyes makes Steve forgets what he was going to say. 

“What…um, what do you wanna call her?” he asks instead.  The tension leaves Bucky’s shoulders, and he looks back to the baby, barely brushing her small pink mouth with a metal finger.  Steve’s never seen Bucky willingly touch anyone but him with his left hand.  It tells him something important.

“I like Susannah,” Bucky decides after a few moments.  Steve curls his arm around him, pressing a kiss into Bucky’s hair as they watch the baby doze.  She has Bucky’s nose. Steve can see it more now.  Bucky’s nose and his eyelashes.  Steve’s heart flutters even as his stomach keeps twisting into knots.

“Susannah,” Steve agrees, “Okay.”

“She stayed up for the whole plane ride,” Bucky tells him, “She’s out like a light.”

“You didn’t sleep either,” Steve reminds him, “You must be exhausted, Buck.”

“I’m fine.”

He can see the shadows under Bucky’s eyes.  They’d been going hard since before the sun came up, and it was almost midnight.

“Are you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Bucky replies testily.  He squints at Steve.  “What’s got you worked up?”

 _Besides the obvious_ , Steve thinks.  “Nothin’.  Just, you haven’t had an episode in a long time.  You had me worried in the living room.”

“What, just now?”  Steve nods.

Bucky’s brow wrinkles, and he shakes his head.

“No.  That wasn’t the Soldier.  Not like…before,” he says, “I thought they were gonna take the baby.  I overreacted.”

“You can’t go off the handle like that,” Steve urges, “I know you felt threatened, but-“

“Don’t lecture me, Steve.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” Steve reminds him, “You don’t want anyone to think-“

“I _know_ what people think!”

Bucky seems startled by his own anger.  He immediately curls in closer around the baby, as if to protect her from his outburst, but Susannah is still asleep.  Steve realizes there are tears dripping down Bucky’s cheeks.

“Please don’t ask me to give her up.”

“That’s not what I was trying to say,” Steve tries to soothe, but Bucky’s calm surface has cracked.

 “You don’t gotta be with me on this one, Steve,” Bucky whispers, voice shaking, “I won’t blame you, I swear.  I know you’ve never been about having kids, and it’s so sudden, but I can’t-I just saw her and I picked her up and now I can’t…”

Susannah makes a soft sound, turning into the warmth of Bucky’s chest.  She’s so _small._

“I can take her somewhere else,” Bucky offers, right hand still pressed warm against the grey blanket bundle as he wipes his eyes dry with his left, “If you wanna think it over.  I’ve still got a couple of safe houses in my back pocket.  God forbid, I know Stark’s got a whole floor for set up for us in the tower I’m sure we could make it work-“

“Don’t you dare,” Steve cuts him off, grabbing his partner by the chin and forcing him to meet his gaze, “Don’t you dare run off on me, Buck.  This is _our_ place.  Yours and mine.  Anything that happens here, happens _anywhere_ , we handle it together, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Bucky agrees, pressing his forehead to Steve’s cheek.  Steve holds him there for a minute, grounding himself with Bucky’s touch; with his quiet, even breathing.

“Don’t fake it for me,” Bucky murmurs after a few moments, “That’s all I’m askin’.  I want to do this together.  Nothing would make me more fuckin’ ecstatic.  But don’t pretend, if it’s not what you really want.  Please.”

Steve swallows.  He keeps one hand on the back of Bucky’s neck. He watches the bundle in Bucky’s arms.  Susannah.  Part of Steve still can’t believe what’s happening.  He wonders if he blinks, or maybe goes to bed, that he’ll wake up and this will all have been some kind of surreal dream. 

The child in Bucky’s hold stays stubbornly solid and present. 

She’s a science experiment, a voice in Steve’s head pipes up.  He feels guilty for even thinking it.

Then again, Steve’s kind of a science experiment himself. 

“Can I hold her?” Steve asks, even though the thought makes his hands shake a little, “Can you show me how?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, something like relief in his features, “Yeah, of course, babe.”

Steve holds out his arms, and Buck looks at his hands with disdain.

“You can take off your gloves, Cap,” Bucky says, voice dry, “She’s not catching.”

With a grimace Steve realizes that except for the helmet he took off on the jet, he’s still in his full suit, gloves included.  He strips the leather off his hands and unzips his jacket for good measure, offering himself for Bucky’s inspection.  The corner of Bucky’s mouth quirks up in a grin before he’s gingerly placing Susannah in Steve’s arms.  He arranges Steve to his liking, lifting his elbow and forcing him to drop his tense shoulders.

“There ‘ya go,” Bucky murmurs, arranging Steve’s hands patiently, “You gotta support her neck.  She’s too little to hold her head up yet.”

“She’s heavy,” Steve marvels. 

“Sure,” Bucky ribs him, “Like a bag of sugar, maybe.  You never held a baby before?”

“Not since the USO,” Steve says, “That usually didn’t go so well.”

“You’re doin’ okay right now,” Bucky breathes, “ _God_ , you look good with her, Steve.”

“She…feels nice,” Steve mumbles, blushing, “Holding her, I mean.  Feel’s right.”

Steve allows Susannah’s weight to settle properly in his arms.  It’s organic, her head tucking in against his bicep while most of her bulk fits in the crook of his elbow.  Through the soft towel Steve can feel the pressure of Susannah’s tiny feet against his ribs, while one small hand rests above the blanket, almost touching Steve just over his heart. 

Steve feels like a house, a cradle, like he was _meant_ to carry the weight of this tiny person.  It’s ridiculous, and kind of wonderful.  Steve exhales, laughing a little, and finally allows himself to look his fill of the baby girl sleeping in his arms.

She looks like _him._ There’s Bucky too, definitely.  From her nose to the wrinkle between her brows Steve can see his partner in Susannah’s face.  But seeing Bucky’s child is not so shocking at seeing _his_ child.  Steve before the war had steeled himself for the day a woman would drag Bucky off to wedded bliss and a house full of dark haired children.  That was something Bucky was born to do that Steve just…wasn’t.

But Susannah has his eyelashes, and his blonde hair.  Steve delicately traces her full lower lip, a miniature of his own, and a smile breaks over his face.

“She’s ours, isn’t she?” Steve looks at Bucky.  “I mean…really ours.  I thought-I thought I could never…”

“I know,” Bucky agrees, “I know.”

The baby makes a soft sound and Steve looks down in time to see Susannah’s face scrunch up in a tiny yawn.  Steve holds his breath as her blue eyes flutter open.  He feels Bucky’s hand tighten on his shoulder and Steve knows his friend is just as mesmerized as he is. 

Susannah’s heavy lidded gaze flicks up to Steve, then over his shoulder to where Bucky has tucked his chin.  It has to be impossible, but it seems as though she already _knows_ their faces.  Steve wonders how old she is by normal baby standards.

“…Hi, Susannah,” Steve says hesitantly at the same time Bucky whispers, “Hi, gorgeous.”

Susannah makes another, less happy sound and wiggles a little in Steve’s arms. 

“Maybe you should take her back,” Steve offers, tense again.

“Nah, just bounce her a little,” Bucky coaches, guiding Steve’s arms, “Nice and easy.  Talk to her, real quiet.” 

“What should I say?” Steve asks, nervous again.

“She’s a baby, Steve.”  Bucky is laughing at him a little.  “Say anything you want.”

“Okay.”  Steve gathers his thoughts.  Susannah watches him. 

“Hello,” he begins, “I’m Steve.  I think we might be related.”  The baby looks unimpressed, but Steve rocks her a little and she doesn’t seem to be headed towards a crying fit anymore.

“Um…I’m sorry I’ve been draggin’ my feet,” Steve continues, still keeping up the gentle motion, “The truth is I’ve been having a hard time, Susannah.  But it’s not because I don’t want you, okay?”

Bucky’s watching him now too.  Steve keeps talking to the baby.  It’s easier, somehow.

“I keep trying to stop myself,” he admits, “Every time I catch myself falling in love a little bit I…I shake myself out of it.  ‘Cause this isn’t meant for me to have.   _You_ aren't meant for me to have.”

“Since I was a teenager I knew,” Steve explains, “But I fought and I hoped and the universe just kept rubbing my nose in it so when I woke up in 2012 I… gave up.  I had responsibilities, I had friends.  Eventually I even got my best guy back, and it was more than I ever thought I deserved.”

Bucky’s breath is ragged as he kisses Steve’s shoulder.  Susannah’s eyes are already falling closed again.  Steve keeps talking anyway.

“I see you, and I know I never _really_ made peace with the fact that I was never gonna be a dad.  And that scares me, babe.  It scares me to admit to myself how bad I want this.  ‘Cause I’m terrified that one day I’ll wake up and find that none of this was real and I’ll be alone again.”

Steve needs a deep breath.  His chest feels tight.  For a minute he feels small again, and the baby too heavy in his arms.  Then Bucky folds his hand over Steve’s where it rests against the blanket covering Susannah’s belly.  He winds their fingers tight and squeezes and Steve finds his voice again.

“…But you’re _here_ ,” he continues with a wet laugh, “You’re here and you’re _beautiful_ and you need us, and that trumps my baggage any day of the week.”

 “I know you’ve been alone too,” Steve murmurs, “Probably for a long time.  And maybe you haven’t gotten held very much, or loved.  But, um, but that’s all gonna change.”

 “’Cause I’m here now,” Steve promises, as their baby falls asleep, “We’re here.  We found you.  And we’re gonna love you.  No matter what.”

“No matter what, doll,” Bucky echoes, and he leans over Steve to drop a kiss on top of Susannah’s head.  He wipes a tear off of Steve’s cheek before kissing him too, slow and warm.

“Okay?” Bucky asks, and Steve laughs again.

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, I’m great.  I love you.”

Bucky smiles.

“I love you, too,” he responds, “We can do this, right?”

“Only if you don’t mind carrying my dead weight,” Steve says with a grin, “I don’t know anything about babies, Buck. ‘Cept what I learned from you when we were kids.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Bucky promises, setting back against Steve’s shoulder, “’S not like we don’t have resources.”  His eyelids are starting to droop, and Steve is relieved.  Bucky feels safe enough, and that the baby is safe enough, that he can finally start to fall asleep.

“You wanna climb in bed?” Steve asks. 

“Right here’s fine,” Bucky mumbles, one hand still tucked into the loose folds of the towel, “Wanna stay with Susannah.”

“Susie,” Steve suggests, watching the rise and fall of their baby’s chest.  Bucky makes a sleepy, inquisitive noise against Steve’s shoulder. 

“Short for Susannah,” Steve explains, cupping one hand so, _so_ carefully against her cheek, fingers brushing her fuzzy blonde hair, “Susie.  Susie, Steve, and Bucky.”

“Perfect,” his partner murmurs.  Soon Bucky’s breathing matches up with the baby’s, and he’s drifting off.  Steve keeps watch over both of them through the night. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six days later

Steve sits down at the conference table across from Fury and Hill.  Bucky is waiting in the car with Susie.  _Just in case_ , he had muttered when Steve kissed him on his way into the non-descript office building. 

Steve knows he looks tired.  He _is_ tired.  Turns out newborns, or however old Susie actually is, don’t sleep through the night quietly.  After that first freebie on the floor of their bedroom it had been six days of crying, feedings, diaper changes, and brief, stolen moments of rest.  They still aren’t sure if Susie is as super as they are or if taking care of a baby is just that hard. 

Steve and Bucky are exhausted.  Steve and Bucky are ecstatic.

“Here’s the deal,” Steve says, parroting Nick’s words from seven days previous.  He slides a piece of paper across the table.  There are only four words written on it.  _Susannah Margaret Barnes-Rogers_. 

Nick seems impressed, but unsurprised.

“Make it legal,” Steve asks.  He makes it sound like a request even though he means it as an order. 

“According to the labs I’ve got no reason to turn you down,” Fury responds, “All the genetic material can be matched to you or Barnes.  We didn’t find any anomalies, other than the lack of cell growth in the nonviable samples.  As far as aiding Hydra’s master plan for world domination, the experiment was a bust.”

“So you don’t think Susie has the serum,” Steve guesses.

“We don’t think so,” Hill answers, “But since we don’t have any of you or Barnes’ unmodified DNA to check against, we can’t be one hundred percent certain.”

“I guess we cross that bridge when we come to it,” Steve suggests.  Fury nods, but Hill looks uncertain.

“You’ll wanna get her checked out, Steve,” she continues, “By someone who can do more than the usual immunizations.  If SGR-26-“

“Susannah,” Steve corrects.  He detects a hint of a smile on both SHIELD officers’ faces.

“If Susannah has the serum, that’s one thing,” Hill says, “But if she _doesn’t_ -“

“Then she could be like I was.”  Frail.  Sick.  What little rest Steve’s gotten in the last week has been haunted by these thoughts.  “Yeah, it’s occurred to us.  We called Stark.  He’s making us a list.”

That satisfies Hill, who looks to Fury.  Steve waits for the other shoe to drop.  It never does.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Nick concludes genially. 

Steve relaxes for the first time in seven days.

 “We’ll arrange all the right documents,” Nick promises, “And some paternity leave.  Take your family home, Captain.”

“Thanks, Nick,” Steve says, and he means it.  A round of handshakes later Steve is in the elevator, bouncing on his heels as he waits to return to his partner and their daughter.  The doors open at the ground floor to reveal Natasha, wearing a sharp black jacket and an expectant expression.

“Everything good?” She asks.

“Everything is great,” Steve answers.  Natasha’s shoulders drop a half inch.

“Good.  I was sitting with James,” she explains, “And Susie.  She’s a sweetheart.”

“She is,” Steve agrees, “Is Bucky okay?”

“He will be once he hears your news.”  Steve nods and heads for where he knows their rented car is waiting.  He pauses and turns back to Natasha, who is still waiting for the lift.

“Hey Nat,” Steve calls back, “You’re up for being godmother, right?”

Natasha’s eyes widen a fraction before she schools her expression.

“I’ll think about it,” she answers.

Steve has barely left the building when he gets a text from Stark.

 _TS: So apparently Natasha’s throwing you a shower next week?  At_ my _house??_

“Huh,” Steve muses aloud, looking back through the glass doors where Nat has already vanished, “I guess that’s a ‘yes’.”

It takes Steve a moment to find the generic gold sedan that holds Bucky and the baby.  “Easy to lose sight of” had been one of Bucky’s required parameters when they rented, and Steve was happy to comply even if it takes an extra minute to pick the car out from the long line against the curb.  They’re going to need a real car of their own soon, Steve muses as he approaches.  Motorcycles aren’t very car seat friendly.

Bucky’s in the back seat of the car with the baby when Steve reaches the edge of the side walk.  He’s got his hair tied back today, and his clothes are nondescript but easy to move in.  Bucky’s getaway bag rests on the floor of the car, right underneath Susie’s car seat.  Steve caught him adding formula and diapers to the black duffle this morning.  _Just in case_.  It’s been Bucky’s mantra today, and Steve can’t wait to put his fears to rest. 

 He taps the glass even though he knows Buck’s likely been monitoring his approach since he left the elevator. 

“Are we running or walking?” Bucky asks through the car door.  Steve can see his eyes scanning the environment, making sure no one’s following Steve without his knowing.

“Walking, babe,” Steve answers, “She’s ours for good.”

The tension bleeds out of Bucky’s shoulders and he flicks the lock open on the car door, practically dragging Steve into the back seat.  It’s a tight fit, with two big guys and a baby, not to mention the infant car seat strapped in on Bucky’s opposite side, but with Susie in his arms Steve’s too happy to care.

“How’s our chickadee?”  Steve asks, blowing a raspberry into Susannah’s belly.  He narrowly dodges a tiny bootied kick to the jaw.

“Grumpy,” Bucky declares, “We don’t like the car and we miss Steve.”

“I missed you too, Susie Q,” Steve promises, kissing his daughter on the nose.  He leans back up to kiss Bucky on the mouth.  “You and Bucky.”

“Sap,” Bucky grumbles, but he’s smiling into Steve’s kiss.

“So they didn’t find anything?” Bucky asks when they part.

“Nothing besides our DNA,” Steve says, “Susie’s our kid from all angles.  Nick’s gonna handle the shady paperwork and then we’re in the clear.” 

“Hallelujah,” Bucky says, leaning against Steve’s shoulder.  Despite the dark shadows under his eyes it’s the most relaxed Bucky’s been all day. 

“Also I guess Natasha’s throwing us a baby shower?” Steve adds. 

“Hot damn,” Bucky grins, “We’re gonna be drowning in baby stuff.  Nat’s got good taste, too.” 

“Hear that, Susie?” Steve says, kissing the baby’s fingers, “You’re gonna be the best dressed kid in Brooklyn.”

Susie doesn’t know about the upcoming party in her honor, but she can tell when Steve and Bucky are happy, and it looks like the positive energy is breaking up her bad mood.  She grips Steve’s offered finger tightly, kicking her feet and babbling.  Her grip feels strong, but Steve’s own strength prevents him from gauging hers.

“They still don’t know if she’s ‘super’,” Steve admits, biting his bottom lip, “And if she’s not…I’m worried, Buck.”

“Hey,” Bucky taps the underside of Steve’s chin, “We know her heartbeat’s regular and her lungs are strong.  If anything crops up along the road?  We’ll handle it.  Together.”

Hearing his own words from the previous week does make Steve feel better, and Bucky’s right.  Susie _is_ healthy, and they’ve got a long list of friends that can help them keep her that way.  

“’Sides,” Bucky adds with a teasing glint in his eye, “She’s only half Rogers.  The Barnes gene pool is _notoriously_ robust.”

“Smartass,” Steve mutters, a smile curling his mouth as he steals one more kiss, “Just for that you’re driving.”

Bucky groans and Susannah gurgles.  She’s tired of them talking instead of paying attention to _her_ , apparently.

Steve tucks Susie against his shoulder.  She’s a warm, heavy weight against his chest.  Susie yawns and Steve can feel her breath through the thin material of his sweater.

“Somebody’s ready for a nap,” Bucky notes, fishing the car keys out of his back pocket. 

“I think we all could use one,” Steve says, and Bucky laughs his agreement.  He kisses the baby and Steve before slipping out of the back seat, agile even in the tight space.  Susie whimpers into Steve’s shirt and he shushes her softly. 

“Shhh, baby girl,” Steve murmurs, rubbing Susie’s back, “It’s time to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not to fear, I've already got some timestamps in the works, including Natasha's baby shower (with bonus Avengers), some grown up alone time (which will bring our rating up to E for the series), and some more adventures down the road. Thanks for reading!


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